The Fate of a Hero
by LordQuidditch
Summary: Harry thought his fate was big enough being the Boy-Who-Lived and Potter Heir, but he was soon to discover a much bigger fate than even he would have seen. Response to DZ2's Once and Future Fate Challenge!
1. Prologue

**DZ2's 'The Once and Future Fate' Challenge:**

**Plot: **Harry thought his fate was big enough being the Boy-Who-Lived and Potter Heir, but he was soon to discover a much bigger fate than even he would have seen.

**Rules: **Light or Grey Harry

Harry's fate must be tied to a Royal Bloodline that doesn't HAVE to be Camelot

When he comes into his legacy, Harry must be taken to the realm/castle from where his new life will take point

At least one magical race MUST have an alliance/brotherhood pact with the Royal House e.g. elves, goblins, centaurs, vampires etc.

Harry must go through a trial to prove his worthiness to the throne

Harry's coronation MUST be as grand and detailed as an actual royal being made King

Dumbledore MUST be the usual manipulative old goat and try to earn favour with the new King

One member of Harry's friends - or enemies to rock the boat - must either be a member or tied to this Royal House and knows what Harry is to become.

As King, Harry MUST remove Fudge from office, but also take responsibility for one other Magical Office

If the kingdom Harry rules is NOT Camelot, then there must be a law/loophole that Harry can use to take charge of the Wizengamot/Ministry

NO SLASH

As King, Harry must grant Sirius amnesty/immunity/pardon from his 'crime' unless he's the one who pledges fealty to Harry

**Guidelines: **Harry as Lord of another magical realm e.g. Atlantis, Paradise, Elven world, OC world/kingdom etc. _ACCEPTED_

The Four Founders somehow get involved with Harry's rule _ACCEPTED__  
><em>

Lily and/or James are alive - somehow - and bring Harry into his new power/station _NO_

Harry acquires a familiar to symbolise his new station _ACCEPTED_

Harry's friends become Knights to the King _ACCEPTED_

Members of the Ministry threaten a war between Harry's lands and the British Magical World _ACCEPTED_

Tom - to _really _rock the boat - is the one who knows what Harry is and, despite being the Dark Lord, wishes only to help Harry_  
><em>

Soul Bond _UNLIKELY_

Crossovers _NO_

As part of his new ruling, Harry receives magical tutoring outside Hogwarts _UNLIKELY__  
><em>

Certain noble families have a history of alliance with the Royal Household _ACCEPTED_

To mark his new station, Harry receives/forges a weapon that doesn't _have_ to be Excalibur _ACCEPTED_

**Forbidden: **Dark or Evil Harry

Slash Pairings

Harry ignoring his duties/destiny as King

Good Dumbledore

Fudge staying in office

Sirius remaining on the run

* * *

><p>A tall man stepped casually towards the doorway of the house. The home consisted of two floors. Inside, the house was, if anything, even neater than the perfectly presented gardens. The downstairs consisted of a living room, dining room, kitchen and hall. And, of course, the cupboard under the stairs, which was full of spiders and just large enough for a young boy to sleep in. What struck him even more was that all the houses around it were identical - row upon row of executive houses for executive people.<p>

At least that was what he could see from outside. The man in question would have fitted in perfectly with the neighbourhood - that is, if he was actually a man. Technically, he was, but he had delved so far into secrets of power that he was greatly changed. He had olive skin and light brown hair that was worn down in a ponytail. That was the only really subnormal thing people would notice about him from a distance in this area.

His build was strong yet oddly wiry, a trait he had obviously worked on, just like his perfectly straight-backed posture. Wearing a classical businessman's suit, he would not look out of place at a high-wage office. Removing his large, aviator sunglasses, the man's eyes were revealed as large yet strangely sharp, a slightly cold look etched into them. The weirdest thing about them was the colour - they were amber. They looked as those of a wolf would look: predatory and dangerous; gleaming in the sun.

He marched stiffly to the door, preparing to knock. He raised his hand and ... stopped.

Replacing his shades, he strode off into the distance, barging through the shoulder of a similar-looking man. "Now is not the time, Aeimnestus," the other warned him gruffly as stopped. "Contact him at that bloody school of his."

He attempted to sooth the angry Aeimnestus. "Don't worry, we'll have our King back soon."

"We'd better," Aeimnestus sighed. "We'd better."

* * *

><p>It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. He could see more pipes branching off in all directions, but none as large as theirs, which twisted and turned, sloping steeply downward, and he knew that he was falling deeper below the school than even the dungeons. Behind him he could hear Ron, thudding slightly at the curves.<p>

And then, just as he had begun to worry about what would happen when he hit the ground, the pipe leveled out, and he shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel large enough to stand in. Lockhart was getting to his feet a little ways away, covered in slime and white as a ghost. Harry stood aside as Ron came whizzing out of the pipe, too.

"We must be miles under the school," said Harry, his voice echoing in the black tunnel.

"Under the lake, probably," asserted Ron, squinting around at the dark, slimy walls.

All three of them turned to stare into the darkness ahead.

"Lumos!" Harry muttered to his wand and it lit again. "C'mon," he said to Ron and Lockhart, and off they went, their footsteps slapping loudly on the wet floor.

The tunnel was so dark that they could only see a little distance ahead. Their shadows on the wet walls looked monstrous in the wand-light.

"Remember," Harry reminded them quietly as they walked cautiously forward, "Any sign of movement, close your eyes right away."

But the tunnel was quiet as as grave, and the first unexpected sound they heard was a loud crunch as Ron stepped on what turned out to be a rat's skull. Harry lowered his wand to look at the floor and saw that it was littered with small animal bones. Trying very hard not to imagine what Ginny might look like if they found her, Harry led the way forward, around a dark bend in the tunnel.

"Harry - there's something up there -" said Ron hoarsely, grabbing Harry's shoulder.

They froze, watching. Harry could just see the outline of something huge and curved, lying right across the tunnel. It wasn't moving.

"Maybe it's asleep," he breathed, glancing back at the other two. Lockhart's hands were pressed over his eyes. Harry turned back to look at the thing, his heart beating so fast it hurt.

Very slowly, his eyes as narrow as he could make them and still see, Harry edged forward, his wand held high.

The light slid over a gigantic snake skin, of a vivid, poisonous green, lying curled and empty across the tunnel floor. The creature that had shed it must have been twenty feet long at least.

"Blimey," exclaimed Ron weakly.

There was a sudden movement behind them. Gilderoy Lockhart's knees had given way.

"Get up," the ginger commanded sharply, pointing his wand at Lockhart.

Lockhart got to his feet - then he dived at the redhead, knocking him to the ground.

Harry jumped forward, but too late - Lockhart was straightening up, panting, Ron's wand in his hand and a gleaming smile back on his face.

"The adventure ends here, boys!" he told them. "I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the school, tell them I was too late to save the girl, and that you two tragically lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body - say good-bye to your memories!"

He raised Ron's Spello-taped wand high over his head and yelled, "Obliviate!"

The wand exploded with the force of a small bomb. Harry flung his arms over his head and ran, slipping over the coils of snake skin, out of the way of great chunks of tunnel ceiling that were thundering to the floor. Next moment, he was standing alone, gazing at a solid wall of broken rock.

"Ron!" he shouted. "Are you okay? Ron!"

"I'm here!" came Ron's muffled voice from behind the rockfall. "I'm okay - this git's not, though - he got blasted by the wand -'

There was a dull thud and a loud "ow!" It sounded as though Ron had just kicked Lockhart in the shins.

"What now?" Ron's voice asked, sounding desperate. "We can't get through - it'll take ages ..."

Harry looked up at the tunnel ceiling. Huge cracks had appeared in it. He had never tried to break apart anything as large as these rocks by magic, and now didn't seem a good moment to try - what if the whole tunnel caved in?

There was another thud and another "ow!" from behind the rocks. They were wasting time. Ginny had already been in the Chamber of Secrets for hours ... Harry knew there was only one thing to do.

"Wait there," he called to Ron. "Wait with Lockhart. I'll go on. If I'm not back in an hour ..."

There was a very pregnant pause,

"I'll try and shift some of this rock," said Ron, who seemed to be trying to keep his voice steady. "So you can - can get back through. And, Harry -"

"See you in a bit," Harry promised, trying to inject some confidence into his shaking voice.

And he set off alone past the giant snake skin.

Soon the distant noise of Ron straining to shift the rocks was gone. The tunnel turned and turned again. Every nerve in Harry's body was tingling unpleasantly. He wanted the tunnel to end, yet dreaded what he'd find when it did. And then, at last, as he crept around yet another bend, he saw a solid wall ahead on which two entwined serpents were carved, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds.

Harry approached, his throat very dry. There was no need to pretend these stone snakes were real; their eyes looked strangely alive.

He could guess what he had to do. He cleared his throat, and the emerald eyes seemed to flicker.

"_Open_," instructed Harry in a low, faint hiss.

The serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight, and Harry, shaking from head to foot, walked inside.

He was standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place.

His heart beating very fast, Harry stood listening to the chill silence. Could the basilisk be lurking in a shadowy corner, behind a pillar? And where was Ginny?

He pulled out his wand and moved forward between the serpentine columns. Every careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. He kept his eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. The hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following him. More than once, with a jolt of the stomach, he thought he saw one stir.

Then, as he drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall.

Harry had to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above: It was ancient and apelike, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. And between the feet, face down, lay a small, black-robed figure with flaming-red hair.

"Ginny!" Harry muttered, sprinting to her and dropping to his knees. "Ginny - don't be dead - please don't be dead -" He flung his wand aside, grabbed Ginny's shoulders, and turned her over. Her face was white as marble, and as cold, yet her eyes were closed, so she wasn't Petrified. But then she must be

"Ginny, please wake up," Harry muttered desperately, shaking her. Ginny's head lolled hopelessly from side to side.

"She won't wake," affirmed a soft voice.

Harry jumped and spun around on his knees.

A tall, black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though Harry were looking at him through a misted window. But there was no mistaking him

"Tom - Tom Riddle?"

Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes off Harry's face.

"What d'you mean, she won't wake?" Harry questioned desperately. "She's not - she's not -?"

"She's still alive," said Riddle. "But only just."

Harry stared at him. Tom Riddle had been at Hogwarts fifty years ago, yet here he stood, a weird, misty light shining about him, not a day older than sixteen.

"Are you a ghost?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"A memory," explained Riddle quietly. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."

He pointed toward the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary Harry had found in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. For a second, Harry wondered how it had got there - but there were more pressing matters to deal with.

"You've got to help me, Tom," Harry ordered, raising Ginny's head again. "We've got to get her out of here. There's a basilisk ... I don't know where it is, but it could be along any moment ... Please, help me -"

Riddle didn't move. Harry, sweating, managed to hoist Ginny half off the floor, and bent to pick up his wand again.

But his wand had gone.

"Did you see -?"

He looked up. Riddle was still watching him - twirling Harry's wand between his long fingers.

"Thanks," accepted Harry, stretching out his hand for it.

A smile curled the corners of Riddle's mouth. He continued to stare at Harry, twirling the wand idly.

"Listen," Harry urged, his knees sagging with Ginny's dead weight. "We've got to go! If the basilisk comes -"

"It won't come until it is called," stated Riddle calmly.

Harry lowered Ginny back onto the floor, unable to hold her up any longer.

"What d'you mean?" he demanded. "Look, give me my wand, I might need it -"

Riddle's smile broadened.

"You won't be needing it," he said.

* * *

><p>"You won't be needing it," he said.<p>

"And neither will you!" shouted a deep voice. Clattering footsteps echoed through the chamber. A towering figure emerged from behind a statue. It bore a heavy bronze breastplate, muscles shaped into it by years of wear and tear. Little other armour was worn, with only a pair of leather greaves covering the baggy trousers sported beneath a tunic of the same animalistic material, and a helmet made of bronze which shielded the entire head and neck, with slits for the eyes and mouth. A large curved projection protected the nape of the neck. It also protected the cheek bones, which appeared to be carved into the helm itself.

In the person's hand was a spear. It was two-to-three metres long with a leaf-shaped blade at one end and a short spike at the other. By his hip was a scabbard; small and light, it looked as if it was designed for holding the sword rather than protecting it.

"Riddle," the man growled, for it was now obviously a man, both from the appearance and the tones sent forth by a powerful male vocal box. "You, a traitor to your kind, would threaten _my_ master? No! You will leave this place lest you be torn apart by my hands and scattered amongst the land of Tartarus, where you truly belong!"

Tom snarled. "How dare you, dog? I am a Lord of this earth, and the most powerful wizard alive! You will treat me as such."

The man scoffed. "I will treat you as you should be treated, you swine. You betrayed your family and your kind, and you have the gall to call yourself a Lord. Lord 'Voldemort', no less," he bellowed. "A name that stands against all your people stood for. A name that means 'Flight From Death'."

Harry gasped.

The man tutted. "You are not even a real lord. You made it up as a title for yourself, without thinking or divining of the consequences and actions that would be brought forth."

"And don't even dare," he continued angrily. "To insult my King with your self-proclaimed greatness. There are plenty of wizards more powerful than you, Thomas. One of them stands barely a foot from you."

All the while, the man had approached the pair. He now stood only a few paces away. "τελευτάω, πνεύμα - φύγε!"

He hurled the spear, piercing the memory of Riddle and forcing it to shriek in pain. The warrior leapt into the air and sprung off a serpentine statue, drawing his sword. As he descended on the wounded spirit, he raised the weapon high above him, and it dropped, searing a hole through what would have been Riddle's neck, the head rolling off.

"AH!" Riddle cried. /_Come, speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four!_/

Harry wheeled around to look up at the statue.

Slytherin's gigantic stone face was moving. Horror-stricken, Harry saw his mouth opening, wider and wider, to make a huge black hole.

And something was stirring inside the statue's mouth. Something was slithering up from its depths.

Strangely, the warrior grinned. It was time to have some fun./_Leave, serpent, or die. I have no wish to kill you, but if I must I shall./_

Something huge hit the stone floor of the Chamber. Harry felt it shudder - he knew what was happening, he could sense it, could almost see the giant serpent uncoiling itself from Slytherin's mouth. Then he heard Riddle's hissing voice: _/Kill them./_

_/I am sorry, speaker,/_ the snake hissed apologetically. _/I must obey my master./_

It lunged, jaws open wide. The maw of the beast was an inch away from enveloping the head of the man who had protected Harry.

"NOOOO!" the boy roared. Blown away by an invisible force, the basilisk, king of the serpents, smacked against the founder's statue with a massive bang. _/You will not kill him./_

Stunned, the regal reptile reared its head and appeared to nod. _/Yes, master./_ it acquiesced sibilantly.

The warrior ran up and ripped out a huge fang. Harry, as though rehearsed, tossed him the diary, and he plunged it straight into the heart of the book.

There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted out of the diary in torrents, streaming over Harry's hands, flooding the floor. Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then ... he burst, disintegrating into thousands of pieces.

"Well, my King," the man removed his helmet and brushed aside his sweaty locks. "My name is Aeimnestus, general of your Imperial Forces, and I am forever at your service."

He knelt on one knee.

"Huh?"

* * *

><p><strong>What do you think, people? A good start, or a random and poor sugar-high of rainbow vomit?<strong>

**Next Chapter ... well, you'll have to keep reading, won't you?**


	2. The Chamber

**DZ2's 'The Once and Future Fate' Challenge:**

**Plot: **Harry thought his fate was big enough being the Boy-Who-Lived and Potter Heir, but he was soon to discover a much bigger fate than even he would have seen.

**Rules: **Light or Grey Harry

Harry's fate must be tied to a Royal Bloodline that doesn't HAVE to be Camelot

When he comes into his legacy, Harry must be taken to the realm/castle from where his new life will take point

At least one magical race MUST have an alliance/brotherhood pact with the Royal House e.g. elves, goblins, centaurs, vampires etc.

Harry must go through a trial to prove his worthiness to the throne

Harry's coronation MUST be as grand and detailed as an actual royal being made King

Dumbledore MUST be the usual manipulative old goat and try to earn favour with the new King

One member of Harry's friends - or enemies to rock the boat - must either be a member or tied to this Royal House and knows what Harry is to become.

As King, Harry MUST remove Fudge from office, but also take responsibility for one other Magical Office

If the kingdom Harry rules is NOT Camelot, then there must be a law/loophole that Harry can use to take charge of the Wizengamot/Ministry

NO SLASH

As King, Harry must grant Sirius amnesty/immunity/pardon from his 'crime' unless he's the one who pledges fealty to Harry

**Guidelines: **Harry as Lord of another magical realm e.g. Atlantis, Paradise, Elven world, OC world/kingdom etc. _ACCEPTED_

The Four Founders somehow get involved with Harry's rule _ACCEPTED__  
><em>

Lily and/or James are alive - somehow - and bring Harry into his new power/station _NO_

Harry acquires a familiar to symbolise his new station _ACCEPTED_

Harry's friends become Knights to the King _ACCEPTED_

Members of the Ministry threaten a war between Harry's lands and the British Magical World _ACCEPTED_

Tom - to _really _rock the boat - is the one who knows what Harry is and, despite being the Dark Lord, wishes only to help Harry_  
><em>

Soul Bond _UNLIKELY_

Crossovers _NO_

As part of his new ruling, Harry receives magical tutoring outside Hogwarts _UNLIKELY__  
><em>

Certain noble families have a history of alliance with the Royal Household _ACCEPTED_

To mark his new station, Harry receives/forges a weapon that doesn't _have_ to be Excalibur _ACCEPTED_

**Forbidden: **Dark or Evil Harry

Slash Pairings

Harry ignoring his duties/destiny as King

Good Dumbledore

Fudge staying in office

Sirius remaining on the run

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing except the plot bunnies that hop about constantly in my over-inflated head.**

"Standard Speech"

_"Mental Speech"_

_/Parseltongue/_

_Thoughts_

* * *

><p><em>The warrior ran up and ripped out a huge fang. Harry, as though rehearsed, tossed him the diary, and he plunged it straight into the heart of the book.<em>

_There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted out of the diary in torrents, streaming over Harry's hands, flooding the floor. Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then ... he burst, disintegrating into thousands of pieces._

_"Well, my King," the man removed his helmet and brushed aside his sweaty locks. "My name is Aeimnestus, general of your Imperial Forces, and I am forever at your service."_

_He knelt on one knee._

_"Huh?"_

* * *

><p>"Huh?" Harry repeated, completely bewildered.<p>

The warrior stayed on his knee, head bowed, as if talking to the floor. "You are the one they call ... Harry Potter - are you not, my liege?"

_My liege?_ "Y-yes," he stammered. "But what do y-you me-mean, liege?"

The warrior went to open his mouth, as if to speak; then came a faint moan from the end of the Chamber. Ginny was stirring. As Harry hurried toward her, she sat up. Her bemused eyes traveled from the huge form of the dead basilisk, over Harry, in his blood-soaked robes, then to the diary in his hand. She drew a great, shuddering gasp and tears began to pour down her face.

"Harry - oh, Harry - I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I c-couldn't say it in front of Percy - it was me, Harry - but I - I s-swear I d-didn't mean to - R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over - and - how did you kill that - that thing? W-where's Riddle? The last thing I r- remember is him coming out of the diary -"

"It's all right," said Harry, holding up the diary, and showing Ginny the fang hole, "Riddle's finished. Look! Him and the basilisk. C'mon, Ginny, let's get out of here -"

"I'm going to be expelled!" Ginny wept as Harry helped her awkwardly to her feet. "I've looked forward to coming to Hogwarts ever since B-Bill came and n-now I'll have to leave and - w-what'll Mum and Dad say?"

Before them was a phoenix. It had crimson feathers on his body and a golden tail as long as a peacock's. His claws and beak were gleaming gold and his eyes were black. The scarlet body feathers glowed faintly in the darkness, while the golden tail feathers looked rather hot to the touch.

_"My King," _spoke a deep voice inside Harry's head, making him jump instantly. _"You must take the girl up to the top, and to her brother. Meet me afterwards, here in the Chamber, as soon as you can. Go, my King."_

_"I'll see you soon, Aeimnestus. I promise."_

Fawkes was waiting for them, hovering in the Chamber entrance. Harry urged Ginny forward; they stepped over the motionless coils of the dead basilisk, through the echoing gloom, and back into the tunnel. Harry heard the stone doors close behind them with a soft hiss.

After a few minutes' progress up the dark tunnel, a distant sound of slowly shifting rock reached Harry's ears.

"Ron!" Harry yelled, speeding up. "Ginny's okay! I've got her!"

He heard Ron give a strangled cheer, and they turned the next bend to see his eager face staring through the sizable gap he had managed to make in the rock fall.

"Ginny!" Ron thrust an arm through the gap in the rock to pull her through first. "You're alive! I don't believe it! What happened? How - what - where did that bird come from?"

Fawkes had swooped through the gap after Ginny.

"He's Dumbledore's," said Harry, squeezing through himself

"How come you've got a sword?" an awestruck Ron asked, gaping at the glittering weapon in Harry's hand. Harry realised that Aeimnestus had given him his sword.

"I'll explain when we get out of here," Harry told him with a sideways glance at Ginny, who was crying harder than ever.

"But -"

"Later," Harry said shortly. He didn't think it was a good idea to tell Ron yet who'd been opening the Chamber, not in front of Ginny, anyway. "Where's Lockhart?"

"Back there," pointed Ron, still looking puzzled but jerking his head up the tunnel toward the pipe. "He's in a bad way. Come and see."

Led by Fawkes, whose wide scarlet wings emitted a soft golden glow in the darkness, they walked all the way back to the mouth of the pipe. Gilderoy Lockhart was sitting there, humming placidly to himself.

"His memory's gone," Ron explained. "The Memory Charm backfired. Hit him instead of us. Hasn't got a clue who he is, or where he is, or who we are. I told him to come and wait here. He's a danger to himself."

Lockhart peered good-naturedly up at them all.

"Hello," he welcomed. "Odd sort of place, this, isn't it? Do you live here?"

"No," shot Ron, raising his eyebrows at Harry.

Harry bent down and looked up the long, dark pipe.

"Have you thought how we're going to get back up this?" he questioned Ron.

Ron shook his head, but Fawkes the phoenix had swooped past Harry and was now fluttering in front of him, his beady eyes bright in the dark. He was waving his long golden tail feathers. Harry looked uncertainly at him.

"He looks like he wants you to grab hold ..." noted Ron, looking perplexed. "But you're much too heavy for a bird to pull up there -"

"Fawkes," stated Harry, "Isn't an ordinary bird."

He turned quickly to the others. "We've got to hold on to each other. Ginny, grab Ron's hand. Professor Lockhart -"

"He means you," said Ron sharply to Lockhart.

"You hold Ginny's other hand -"

Harry tucked the sword and the Sorting Hat into his belt, Ron took hold of the back of Harry's robes, and Harry reached out and took hold of Fawkes's strangely hot tail feathers.

An extraordinary lightness seemed to spread through his whole body and the next second, in a rush of wings, they were flying upward through the pipe. Harry could hear Lockhart dangling below him, shouting, "Amazing! Amazing! This is just like magic!" The chill air was whipping through Harry's hair, and before he'd stopped enjoying the ride, it was over - all four of them were hitting the wet floor of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and as Lockhart straightened his hat, the sink that hid the pipe was sliding back into place.

Myrtle goggled at them.

"You're alive," she said blankly to Harry.

"There's no need to sound so disappointed," he retorted grimly, wiping flecks of blood and slime off his glasses.

"Oh, well ... Id just been thinking ... if you had died, you'd have been welcome to share my toilet," rushed out Myrtle, blushing silver.

"Urgh!" exclaimed Ron as they left the bathroom for the dark, deserted corridor outside. "Harry! I think Myrtle's grown fond of you! You've got competition, Ginny!"

But tears were still flooding silently down Ginny's face.

"Where now?" asked Ron, with an anxious look at Ginny. Harry pointed.

Fawkes was leading the way, glowing gold along the corridor. They strode after him, and moments later, found themselves outside Professor McGonagall's office.

Harry knocked and pushed the door open, tucking his sword into his robe

* * *

><p>For a moment there was silence as Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Lockhart stood in the doorway, covered in muck and slime and (in Harry's case) blood. Then there was a scream.<p>

"Ginny!"

It was Mrs Weasley, who had been sitting crying in front of the fire. She leapt to her feet, closely followed by Mr Weasley, and both of them flung themselves upon their daughter.

Harry, however, was looking past them. Professor Dumbledore was standing by the mantelpiece, beaming, next to Professor McGonagall, who was taking great, steadying gasps, clutching her chest. Fawkes went whooshing past Harry's ear and settled on Dumbledore's shoulder, just as Harry found himself and Ron being swept into Mrs Weasleys tight embrace.

"You saved her! You saved her! How did you do it?"

"I think we'd all like to know that," proclaimed Professor McGonagall weakly.

Mrs. Weasley let go of Harry, who hesitated for a moment, then walked over to the desk and laid upon it what remained of Riddle's diary.

Then he started telling them everything. For nearly a quarter of an hour he spoke into the rapt silence: He told them about hearing the disembodied voice, how Hermione had finally realized that he was hearing a basilisk in the pipes; how he and Ron had followed the spiders into the forest, that Aragog had told them where the last victim of the basilisk had died; how he had guessed that Moaning Myrtle had been the victim, and that the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets might be in her bathroom ...

"Very well," Professor McGonagall prompted him as he paused, "So you found out where the entrance was - breaking a hundred school rules into pieces along the way, I might add - but how on earth did you all get out of there alive, Potter?"

_"Don't tell them the truth, my King,"_ the voice of Aeimnestus echoed in his mind. _"Make something up, just don't tell them the truth."_

So Harry, his voice now growing hoarse from all this talking, made up a tale - how Fawkes had come in with a very timely arrival, and how he had stabbed the basilisk with a huge chunk of rock from the chamber. But then he faltered. He had so far avoided mentioning Riddle's diary - or Ginny. She was standing with her head against Mrs Weasley's shoulder, and tears were still coursing silently down her cheeks. What if they expelled her? Harry thought in panic. Riddle's diary didn't work anymore ... How could they prove it had been he who'd made her do it all?

Instinctively, Harry looked at Dumbledore, who smiled faintly, the firelight glancing off his half-moon spectacles.

"What interests me most," said Dumbledore gently, "Is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when my sources tell me he is currently in hiding in the forests of Albania."

Relief - warm, sweeping, glorious relief - swept over Harry. "W- what's that?" said Mr. Weasley in a stunned voice. "You-Know-Who? En-enchant Ginny? But Ginny's not ... Ginny hasn't been ... has she?"

"It was this diary," mumbled Harry quickly, picking it up and showing it to Dumbledore. "Riddle wrote it when he was sixteen ..."

Dumbledore took the diary from Harry and peered keenly down his long, crooked nose at its burnt and soggy pages.

"Brilliant," he declared softly. "Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen."

He turned around to the Weasleys, who were looking utterly bewildered.

"Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving the school ... traveled far and wide ... sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognizable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here."

"But, Ginny," said Mrs Weasley. "What's our Ginny got to do with - with - him?"

"His d-diary," Ginny sobbed. "I've b-been writing in it, and he's been w-writing back all year -"

"_Ginny!_" cried Mr. Weasley, flabbergasted. "Haven't I taught you _anything_? What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain? Why didn't you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was clearly full of Dark Magic -'

"I d-didn't know," sobbed Ginny. "I found it inside one of the books Mum got me. I th-thought someone had just left it in there and forgotten about it -"

"Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away," Dumbledore interrupted in a firm voice. "This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort." He strode over to the door and opened it. "Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up," he added, twinkling kindly down at her. "You will find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She's just giving out Mandrake juice - I daresay the basilisk's victims will be waking up any moment."

"So Hermione's okay!" Ron smiled brightly.

"There has been no lasting harm done," said Dumbledore.

Mrs. Weasley led Ginny out, and Mr. Weasley followed, still looking deeply shaken.

"You know, Minerva," Professor Dumbledore said thoughtfully to Professor McGonagall, "I think all this merits a good feast. Might I ask you to go and alert the kitchens?"

"Right," answered Professor McGonagall crisply, also moving to the door. "I'll leave you to deal with Potter and Weasley, shall I?"

"Certainly," said Dumbledore.

She left, and Harry and Ron gazed uncertainly at Dumbledore. What exactly had Professor McGonagall meant, deal with them? Surely - surely - they weren't about to be punished?

"I seem to remember telling you both that I would have to expel you if you broke any more school rules, said Dumbledore.

Ron opened his mouth in horror.

"Which goes to show that the best of us must sometimes eat our words," Dumbledore went on, smiling. "You will both receive Special Awards for Services to the School and - let me see - yes, I think two hundred points apiece for Gryffindor."

Ron went as brightly pink as Lockhart's valentine flowers and closed his mouth again.

"But one of us seems to be keeping mightily quiet about his part in this dangerous adventure," Dumbledore added. "Why so modest, Gilderoy?"

Harry gave a start. He had completely forgotten about Lockhart. He turned and saw that Lockhart was standing in a corner of the room, still wearing his vague smile. When Dumbledore addressed him, Lockhart looked over his shoulder to see who he was talking to.

"Professor Dumbledore," Ron said quickly, "there was an accident down in the Chamber of Secrets. Professor Lockhart -"

"Am I a professor?" said Lockhart in mild surprise. "Goodness. I expect I was hopeless, was I?"

"He tried to do a Memory Charm and the wand backfired," Ron explained quietly to Dumbledore.

"Dear me," said Dumbledore, shaking his head, his long silver mustache quivering. "Impaled upon your own sword, Gilderoy!"

"Sword?" said Lockhart dimly. "Haven't got a sword. That boy has, though." He pointed at Harry. "He'll lend you one."

"Would you mind taking Professor Lockhart up to the infirmary, too?" Dumbledore said to Ron, looking peculiarly apprehensively at Gilderoy. "I'd like a few more words with Harry ..."

Lockhart ambled out. Ron cast a curious look back at Dumbledore and Harry as he closed the door.

Dumbledore crossed to one of the chairs by the fire.

"Sit down, Harry," he said, and Harry sat, feeling unaccountably nervous.

"First of all, Harry, I want to thank you," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling again. "You must have shown me real loyalty down in the Chamber. Nothing but that could have called Fawkes to you."

He stroked the phoenix, which had fluttered down onto his knee. Harry grinned awkwardly as Dumbledore watched him.

"And so you met Tom Riddle," said Dumbledore thoughtfully. "I imagine he was most interested in you ..."

Suddenly, something that was nagging at Harry came tumbling out of his mouth.

"Professor Dumbledore ... Riddle said I'm like him. Strange likenesses, he said ..."

"Did he, now?" said Dumbledore, looking thoughtfully at Harry from under his thick silver eyebrows. "And what do you think, Harry?"

"I don't think I'm like him!" said Harry, more loudly than he'd intended. "I mean, I'm - I'm in Gryffindor, I'm ..."

But he fell silent, a lurking doubt resurfacing in his mind.

"Professor," he started again after a moment. "The Sorting Hat told me I'd - I'd have done well in Slytherin. Everyone thought I was Slytherin's heir for a while ... because I can speak Parseltongue ..."

"You can speak Parseltongue, Harry," said Dumbledore calmly, "because Lord Voldemort - who is the last remaining ancestor of Salazar Slytherin - can speak Parseltongue. Unless I'm much mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar. Not something he intended to do, I'm sure ..."

"Voldemort put a bit of himself in me?" Harry said, thunderstruck.

"It certainly seems so."

"So I should be in Slytherin," Harry said, looking desperately into Dumbledore's face. "The Sorting Hat could see Slytherin's power in me, and it -"

"Put you in Gryffindor," said Dumbledore calmly. "Listen to me, Harry. You happen to have many qualities Salazar Slytherin prized in his hand-picked students. His own very rare gift, Parseltongue - resourcefulness - determination - a certain disregard for rules," he added, his mustache quivering again. "Yet the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor. You know why that was. Think."

"It only put me in Gryffindor," said Harry in a defeated voice, "because I asked not to go in Slytherin ..."

"Exactly," said Dumbledore, beaming once more. "Which makes you very different from Tom Riddle. It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities." Harry sat motionless in his chair, stunned.

For a minute, neither of them spoke. Then Dumbledore pulled open one of the drawers in Professor McGonagall's desk and took out a quill and a bottle of ink.

"What you need, Harry, is some food and sleep. I suggest you go down to the feast, while I write to Azkaban - we need our gamekeeper back. And I must draft an advertisement for the Daily Prophet, too," he added thoughtfully. "We'll be needing a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher ... dear me, we do seem to run through them, don't we?"

Harry got up and crossed to the door. He had just reached for the handle, however, when the door burst open so violently that it bounced back off the wall.

Lucius Malfoy stood there, fury in his face. And cowering behind his legs, heavily wrapped in bandages, was Dobby.

"Good evening, Lucius," introduced Dumbledore pleasantly.

Mr. Malfoy almost knocked Harry over as he swept into the room. Dobby went scurrying in after him, crouching at the hem of his cloak, a look of abject terror on his face.

The elf was carrying a stained rag with which he was attempting to finish cleaning Mr. Malfoys shoes. Apparently Mr. Malfoy had set out in a great hurry, for not only were his shoes half-polished, but his usually sleek hair was disheveled. Ignoring the elf bobbing apologetically around his ankles, he fixed his cold eyes upon Dumbledore.

"So," he spat "You've come back. The governors suspended you, but you still saw fit to return to Hogwarts."

"Well, you see, Lucius," began Dumbledore, smiling serenely, "The other eleven governors contacted me today. It was something like being caught in a hailstorm of owls, to tell the truth. They'd heard that Arthur Weasleys daughter had been killed and wanted me back here at once. They seemed to think I was the best man for the job after all. Very strange tales they told me, too ... several of them seemed to think that you had threatened to curse their families if they didn't agree to suspend me in the first place."

Mr. Malfoy went even paler than usual, but his eyes were still slits of fury.

"So - have you stopped the attacks yet?" he sneered. "Have you caught the culprit?"

"We have," nodded Dumbledore, with a smile.

"Well?" demanded Mr Malfoy sharply. "Who is it?"

"The same person as last time, Lucius," said Dumbledore. "But this time, Lord Voldemort was acting through somebody else. By means of this diary."

He held up the small black book with the large hole through the center, watching Mr. Malfoy closely. Harry, however, was watching Dobby.

The elf was doing something very odd. His great eyes fixed meaningfully on Harry, he kept pointing at the diary, then at Mr. Malfoy, and then hitting himself hard on the head with his fist.

"I see ..." said Mr. Malfoy slowly to Dumbledore.

"A clever plan," conceded Dumbledore in a level voice, still staring Mr. Malfoy straight in the eye. "Because if Harry here" -Mr. Malfoy shot Harry a swift, sharp look - "and his friend Ron hadn't discovered this book, why - Ginny Weasley might have taken all the blame. No one would ever have been able to prove she hadn't acted of her own free will ...

Mr. Malfoy said nothing. His face was suddenly mask-like.

"And imagine," Dumbledore went on, "what might have happened then ... the Weasleys are one of our most prominent pure-blood families. Imagine the effect on Arthur Weasley and his Muggle Protection Act, if his own daughter was discovered attacking and - killing Muggle-borns ... very fortunate the diary was discovered, and Riddle's memories wiped from it. "Who knows what the consequences might have been otherwise ..."

Mr. Malfoy forced himself to speak.

"Very fortunate," he granted stiffly.

And still, behind his back, Dobby was pointing, first to the diary, then to Lucius Malfoy, then punching himself in the head.

And Harry suddenly understood. He nodded at Dobby, and Dobby backed into a corner, now twisting his ears in punishment.

"Don't you want to know how Ginny got hold of that diary, Mr. Malfoy?" queried Harry.

Lucius Malfoy rounded on him.

"How should I know how the stupid little girl got hold of it?" he replied.

"Because you gave it to her," said Harry. "In Flourish and Blotts'. You picked up her old Transfiguration book and slipped the diary inside it, didn't you?"

He saw Mr. Malfoy's white hands clench and unclench.

"Prove it," he hissed.

"Oh, no one will be able to do that," said Dumbledore, smiling at Harry. "Not now that Riddle has vanished from the book. On the other hand, I would advise you, Lucius, not to go giving out any more of Lord Voldemort's old school things. If any more of them find their way into innocent hands, I think Arthur Weasley, for one, will make sure they are traced back to you."

Lucius Malfoy stood for a moment, and Harry distinctly saw his right hand twitch as though he was longing to reach for his wand. Instead, he turned to his house-elf.

"We're going, Dobby!"

He wrenched open the door and as the elf came hurrying up to him, he kicked him right through it. They could hear Dobby squealing with pain all the way along the corridor. Harry stood for a moment, thinking hard. Then it came to him -

"Professor Dumbledore," he blurted hurriedly. "Can I give that diary back to Mr. Malfoy, please?"

"Certainly, Harry," said Dumbledore calmly. "But hurry. The feast, remember ..."

Harry grabbed the diary and dashed out of the office. He could hear Dobby's squeals of pain receding around the corner. Quickly, wondering if this plan could possibly work, Harry took off one of his shoes, pulled off his slimy, filthy sock, and stuffed the diary into it. Then he ran down the dark corridor.

He caught up with them at the top of the stairs.

"Mr. Malfoy," he gasped, skidding to a halt, "I've got something for you -"

And he forced the smelly sock into Lucius Malfoy's hand.

"What the -?"

Mr. Malfoy ripped the sock off the diary, threw it aside, then looked furiously from the ruined book to Harry.

"You'll meet the same sticky end as your parents one of these days, Harry Potter," he said softly. "They were meddlesome fools, too."

He turned to go.

"Come, Dobby. I said, come."

But Dobby didn't move. He was holding up Harry's disgusting, slimy sock, and looking at it as though it were a priceless treasure.

"Master has given a sock," said the elf in wonderment. "Master gave it to Dobby."

"What's that?" spat Mr Malfoy. "What did you say?"

"Got a sock," said Dobby in disbelief. "Master threw it, and Dobby caught it, and Dobby - Dobby is free. "

Lucius Malfoy stood frozen, staring at the elf Then he lunged at Harry.

"You've lost me my servant, boy!"

But Dobby shouted, "You shall not harm Harry Potter!"

There was a loud bang, and Mr. Malfoy was thrown backward. He crashed down the stairs, three at a time, landing in a crumpled heap on the landing below. He got up, his face livid, and pulled out his wand, but Dobby raised a long, threatening finger.

"You shall go now," he threatened fiercely, pointing down at Mr. Malfoy. "You shall not touch Harry Potter. You shall go now."

Lucius Malfoy had no choice. With a last, incensed stare at the pair of them, he swung his cloak around him and hurried out of sight.

"Harry Potter freed Dobby!" screamed the elf shrilly, gazing up at Harry, moonlight from the nearest window reflected in his orb-like eyes. "Harry Potter set Dobby free!"

"Least I could do, Dobby," said Harry, grinning. "Just promise never to try and save my life again."

The elf's ugly brown face split suddenly into a wide, toothy smile.

"I've just got one question, Dobby," Harry told him as Dobby pulled on Harry's sock with shaking hands. "You told me all this had nothing to do with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, remember? Well -"

"It was a clue, sir," said Dobby, his eyes widening, as though this was obvious. "Was giving you a clue. The Dark Lord, before he changed his name, could be freely named, you see?"

"Right," acknowledged Harry weakly. "Well, I'd better go. There's a feast, and my friend Hermione should be awake by now ..."

Dobby threw his arms around Harry's middle and hugged him.

"Harry Potter is greater by far than Dobby knew!" he sobbed. "Farewell, Harry Potter!"

And with a final loud crack, Dobby disappeared.

* * *

><p><em>Open,/_ Harry commanded, standing before the entrance to the inner chamber once more, after a huge feast in the great hall. His order was met by a great scraping sound, that of rock on rock.

With a final thud, the door was open, and he stepped through. Looking around, he saw Aeimnestus lounging lazily against one of the stone pillars, the basilisk still laying dead upon the floor. "Aeimnestus."

The warrior's head jerked up rapidly and he stood stiffly, very militarily. "Yes, my King?"

Perplexed, Harry answered, "I thought you wanted to speak to me. You told me to meet you here."

"I did, my liege," Aeimnestus admitted. "I merely did not expect you to. Please follow me."

And with those words, he walked towards the gaping entrance that had once held the now slain basilisk.

* * *

><p>They soon came to a large oaken door, barely visible in the darkness that surrounded them in the tunnel. <em>The King is here. Grant him passage,/_ Aeimnestus intoned. He heard the sound of various clicks before the door swung wide open, revealing a small, cozy living room, a roaring fire crackling warmly in the wall. Black leather armchairs greeted them, and spiral staircases led upstairs at three different places, with one even going downwards.

They stood there for over a minute, Harry wondering constantly why they were still standing. "Why aren't we sitting down?" he asked cautiously.

His saviour was shocked. "My King, I do not have the right to sit before my master does - it would be sacrilege!"

"Umm, okay?" Harry mumbled, finally taking a seat and resting his tired and stiff legs.

"I assume, my liege, by your lack of normal response to the majority of my comments, that you have no knowledge of me, or your standing?" Aeimnestus dreaded the answer.

"What standing?"

"You are Harold Dimitri Potter, King of Heraklion and a Lord of Magical Greece!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Also, I'm not sure yet about the pairing I wish to enforce - so, I leave it to you, the readers, to decide. Please review with one of the following:  
><strong>**Hermione  
>Daphne<br>Luna  
>Tracey<br>Pansy  
>Astoria<br>**

**Any good? Please be honest, and if you hate it ... go ahead, flame away! It's a bit chilly where I live anyway.**

**Next Chapter ... Harry discovers more about his unusual station in life.**


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